


what a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore

by oneworldaway



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, blame last week's episode, wedding dress smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3790462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneworldaway/pseuds/oneworldaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So glad you could make it, Sameen! I never got your RSVP.”</p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, Shaw rolled her eyes. “Do I even want to know?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	what a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore

**Author's Note:**

> Title suggestion provided by my beta reader, Karo. NICE ONE. (From [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vc6vs-l5dkc), if it's unclear. I AM NOT CALLING ROOT A WHORE.) Ideally I would've had this ready to go last Tuesday, but I'm lazy. Better late than never.

“Congratulations?” came a slightly bemused voice from behind her, and Root spun around from where she’d been regarding herself in the mirror with a grin, the skirt of her long, white dress billowing out as she twirled. 

“So glad you could make it, Sameen! I never got your RSVP.”

Unsurprisingly, Shaw rolled her eyes. “Do I even want to know?”

“Fortunately for all of us, this isn’t going to be a _‘til death do us part_ type of deal,” Root explained, crossing the room to the dressing table over by Sameen and setting down the veil she’d been about to put on. “I just need to squeeze one last piece of intel out of my groom before we go our separate ways.” She leaned in closer to Shaw conspiratorially, inwardly pleased when she didn’t pull away. “Between you and me, that guy downstairs? Not a real minister. None of it will be legally binding.”

“Whatever,” said Shaw. “I’m just here to keep the best man from killing you before the ceremony’s even started. He knows you’re onto them and their little computer project.”

“I _knew_ Tim couldn’t be as nice as he seemed,” said Root, shaking her head. “Men these days.”

Shaw didn’t respond, and Root realized, after a pause, that she was taking her in. “You look...” Root’s eyes widened, sparkling with eager anticipation. “Frilly.”

Root pursed her lips, but there was still a smile in her eyes. “That is the popular look for these events,” she said, right in Shaw’s space, now. She realized Shaw had closed the door behind her when she came in, and felt emboldened. “The dress isn’t my favourite part, though,” she whispered, bunching up her skirt around her knee before reaching for Shaw’s hand, pulling it up along her leg to land on her equally frilly garter. “It’s what’s underneath that I like most.”

Sameen kissed her then, having to stretch more than usual to reach Root in the heels she wore with her dress. She licked at the seam of Root’s lips, silently asking to taste her, and Root obliged, leaving Shaw’s hand in place on her leg and wrapping her own arms around her. As they kissed, Sameen drew lazy circles up and along the inside of Root’s thigh, her other hand coming up to pull Root’s skirt up further. An involuntary hum escaped Shaw when that hand cupped the curve of Root’s ass through her lacy underwear, and Root pulled back with a soft laugh. “I knew you’d like it,” she breathed.

“Shut up,” said Shaw, grabbing one of Root’s arms and turning them around to push Root’s back against the closed door, Shaw sinking to her knees.

Root shivered delightedly as Shaw disappeared beneath layers of tulle, feeling her where she could no longer see her. She tore Root’s panties down quite unceremoniously, but stilled, then, nipping her way lazily up her thigh. “As nice as this is, I really do have to be getting downstairs soon,” said Root a bit breathlessly, steadying herself against the door. “And I still need to practice my vows.”

“So practice them,” came Shaw’s voice from under her skirt, just before her mouth landed on Root’s centre.

“Mmm. Let’s see,” said Root, needing a moment to recall the words she’d memorized - utterly distracted by the way Shaw’s tongue swirled around her clit, far too slowly, too gently. “From the moment we first laid eyes on each other across the gym last Thursday, I knew you were the one,” Root recited as wistfully as she could manage, and she thought she heard Shaw huff in amusement below her, savouring the feel of her hot breath against her. “You’re the only person who really gets me, and I look forward to spending the rest of our lives getting to know each other better.” She smirked to herself as Shaw continued to tease her, proving, once again, she knew _exactly_ what Root liked. Nails digging into her thighs, Root wondered, distantly, how long her legs would hold out, already feeling unsteady in her dressy heels. “Running a little low on time here, Sameen,” she reminded them both, before she could get too caught up in this to care. Shaw responded in kind, finally applying just the kind of pressure Root needed, as she simultaneously slid two fingers inside of her.

“I promise to make you happy, and to cherish you always,” Root continued, her voice wavering. She shuddered as Shaw set a relentless pace, at last, her tongue and hand working in perfect tandem to drive Root to the edge. “I will do my best to protect you from harm, and I will remain by your side forever, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live.” The pitch of her voice rising and falling as Shaw’s pace quickened, thrusting into her harder, Root felt a thousand miles away from the sham of a ceremony she was about to participate in. “And after that, too,” she added, an afterthought not really meant for her groom, at all.

Shaw answered her with one particularly well-timed thrust, her fingers curling deliciously inside of Root, drawing a whimper from her that Root could only hope the groomsmen weren’t still in the next room to hear. She grasped at the fabric of her skirt, half trying to pull it back to see Shaw, half for something to hold onto as Shaw’s skillful mouth brought her to the apex of her pleasure, right before she plummeted into her orgasm.

When she was able to catch her breath again, she found herself on the floor, regaining awareness just in time to watch Shaw emerge from beneath her skirt, the pieces of hair hanging out of her ponytail plastered to her damp face. She looked, for a second, as if she were contemplating wiping off her hand off on Root’s skirt, but seemed to think better of it, using the edge of her tank top instead.

Shaw was smiling at her wolfishly, a look Root couldn’t help but return. “Guess I’d better be making my way to the altar,” said Root, slowly pushing herself to her feet and making a show of pulling her panties back up and straightening her garter, Shaw watching her from the floor. “See you after the reception.”

“After?” asked Shaw, her voice huskier than usual, as she stood, too.

Root’s smirk only widened. “I’ll be finished here shortly after the ceremony,” she explained, “but I still have the honeymoon suite booked for the night. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

She held onto the image of Shaw’s eyes sparkling dangerously at her as she left the room and descended the stairs to the hall where her groom awaited her.


End file.
